As I sit to write this post, I have taken
the first official steps of a new chapter in my life : My Residency. It has
been a wild couple of months of documentation, visa application, apartment
hunting and packing. But I have managed it and today I sit here, a to-be-intern
in Internal Medicine starting June 29th. Lets recap what all
happened since the last post I uploaded….
1)
Receiving my contract letter: I
think I spent most of the time after 20th March celebrating that I matched.
It was only when I received my contract letter in the first week of April that
it started to sink in, that I had officially finished medical school and was
now going to enter my post-graduate training. It was exhilarating and scary
simultaneously.
2)
Statement of Need (Ministry of
Health Letter): Have things ever been smooth in this USMLE journey? Trust this
application to stick to the pattern. It took an exact 2 weeks, countless phone
calls, a quarrel with the assistant, a trip by a friend, two trips by my mother
and a shitload of time spent on the Delhi-bound flights and the airport, to
finally have my letter in my hand. I think at one point I started thinking
contingency plans – miss orientation, make up by using vacation time, reshuffle
my Step 3 prep plans, etc. etc. etc.
3)
ECFMG Application for J1: That
moment when I received an email from ECFMG saying that my CV was incomplete
will be etched in my head forever. I was literally counting seconds, telling
myself that I’d be able to apply for my visa on time, when out of nowhere comes
an email that blindsided me by initially giving me no clue about what was
incomplete. This was during mid-May and keeping with the timeline mentioned on
the website, I was hoping to get my visa papers by June 3rd.
Thereafter a Visa interview date within a week and hopefully my passport in my
hand a couple of days before I was scheduled to fly out. That email pushed
things back by a couple of days and I started wondering whether I’d have
reschedule my flight from India. ECFMG however turned out to be a sweetheart
and sent me my visa papers within a week. By the third week of May, I was on
the US Consulate website looking up interview dates.
4)
Visa Interview: It was just so
typical that I laughed when I realized that when I had to select a date, the
first available date would be 10 days down the line; previously, first
available dates were within 2 days! But, once I snagged a date, everything went
pretty smoothly. The interview was the shortest one I’ve had ever (not that I’ve
had a lot of interviews). When the officer said, “Visa Approved” I couldn’t
stop smiling. Was there a chance I was going to get rejected? I don’t know. I’d
like to say I was 100% sure, but hell, it is an interview. Of course I wasn’t
sure!
5)
Packing my bags: Have I ever
mentioned that I hate packing? I do. I am not a light traveler. If I could get
a wish for myself, it would be to train me to pack light. I need so many thigns
that are my own, I get restless if I don’t take them (shampoos, body wash, nail
clippers, hairpins, body lotion, home slippers, two combs, two towels, three
napkins…that’s just a few things). Ultimately I don’t end up taking a lot of
clothes, bottles is what snags most of the weight. Point is, I hate packing. I
keep making lists and adding stuff to them. I’m not the biggest of persons –
petite is so apt for me, it’s not remotely funny. So when I have to manage 3
bags and a carry-on laptop bag/haversack, I also hate changing flights. When
luggage is checked in up to my final destination, I have a glow on my face that
probably feels like I won the Nobel prize or something! I also hate arguing
with the groundstaff for overweight baggage. Ughh!! I began packing my bags for
a supposed 3- year stay over a month back. The saga ended 5 minutes before I
left for the airport. Can you believe that?! If I were a sane person, I’d
probably dedicate 3 days to packing and be done with it. But then, whoever said
I was sane? I’d open my bags and then just leave them open because I got bored
:-P ha ha!! I’m delighted that I managed to wade all my bags to the apartment
here in one piece (and I mean me, not the bags).
6)
The first 2 weeks of June:
There seems to have been a touch of fantasy and incredibility whenever I
thought about sitting on the flight to the US. How can I, me, this little girl
manage to do it all, make the move, shift to a different country (and
continent) on a one-way ticket with no return date, to actually work in a
hospital? I couldn’t even imagine coming to an empty apartment and going home
shopping to turn it into a home. I couldn’t imagine driving a car on the wrong
side of the road with a New York State license. I couldn’t imagine growing up.
Finally. And then, strangely I also could.
My mind has been thinking too much. So many
unanswered questions hit me simultaneously, I find it hard to just let go and
enjoy. When my first flight took off the runway, I took a deep breath and told
myself, “You’re actually doing this!” When I was at the Abu Dhabi airport
during my stopover, I said, “It is happening. My immigration to the US is
happening right now and I can’t get out of this.” When I reached JFK, I didn’t
even bother to feel delighted at my favourite airport in the world. I was
telling myself that this decision and this next step was going to be a great
one and I would flourish.
There comes a time when all you want to do
is get out of your childhood home and try to be your own person. That feeling
is the one of growing up. I’ve always felt that I needed that – staying on my
own, looking after my own apartment, paying my own bills, doing my own grocery,
cooking and cleaning, making my own financial decisions and at the same time,
doing well professionally. When you do medicine in India, you don’t really get
to do that. Post-graduation basically restricts your life to the hospital – you
go to the cafeteria to eat, you have the common maid to do your laundry, you
have a shared hostel room that you never see because you’re stuck in the wards.
You mature professionally but you never really get to evaluate your own self.
Girls my age have gotten married and have
kids too. But did they ever think that they wanted to be themselves for some
time and make sure that they had grown up in their own eyes? That is what I’m
looking for and hopefully, at the end of these three years I shall have an
answer J Until then, I’m going to enjoy the Rochester spring/summer because it
doesn’t last for more than 3 odd months and after being here in January, I know
how depressing winters can get.
To remind myself of how beautiful this place can be:
